


One Thousand Years

by bigbaduniverse



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 18:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbaduniverse/pseuds/bigbaduniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Twelfth Doctor is 2100 years old. He hasn't seen Rose in over one thousand years. What would happen if he stumbles onto dimension-hopping Rose after centuries apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Thousand Years

She was running from darkness at full tilt. Smashing the dimension hopper as soon as she realized she had landed in the wrong universe, again. It was taking its toll. Each rip in the universe tore her soul, exposing her to parts of the universe no human should have to see. She felt weighted down with darkness, creeping closer and closer each time she stopped to take a breath. But she had to keep moving. There was no time. No time. 

So when Rose slammed the button, looked around with weary eyes, and saw space shuttles flying low in earth’s orbit, she expected to try again. Her universe didn’t have space shuttles hovering over London. In fact, it reminded her of the Zeppelins she and the Doctor and Mickey had spotted when they came to Pete’s world for the first time. She was about to press the button again when out of the corner of her eye she saw blue. 

That silly color had ingrained itself in her brain so that her eyes were drawn towards it instinctually. Rose looked around, expecting to see nothing other than a blue trash bin.   
Not a bin, no. A box.   
Impossible. 

Rose stared at the TARDIS for a full minute, her finger still poised over the button. Here was the universe, giving her exactly what she wanted.   
It must be too good to be true. 

She closed the gap between her and the TARDIS. She slid her hand along the smooth wood of the door, tears somehow slipping down her cheeks even though she couldn’t remember allowing them out. It was too much for her human heart.   
Before she could overthink this she knocked rapidly, four times. 

The door swung inward with such force that Rose took a step back. 

“What? What do you—“ He froze, his mouth ajar, his eyes wild and strange. Who was this man? Why was he in her TARDIS?   
But Rose already knew. Because nobody else looked at her like that. His eyes were fire, burning her and turning her to ashes. But his face, this wrinkled, tired face, was all confusion and pain and terrible loss. What had happened to him?

“Doctor,” she managed, barely any sound escaping. 

He didn’t move. He was plastered against the door frame. He had been there for a million years and would be there a million more.   
“Say something,” she pleaded. She needed to know he was her Doctor.   
Finally, he spoke:   
“A thousand years…” His eyes never left hers. “Rose Tyler,” (Her name on his lips was ecstacy), “I haven’t seen you for a thousand years.   
His voice broke and she cracked.   
No. Impossible. She had come back to him. She was going to stay with him forever. Her mind couldn’t even comprehend that kind of time, what it meant, how it sat in the bones.

One thousand years. 

He reached out his hand. It was wrinkled and veiny and Rose wanted to throw up because this was not her Doctor. This man had lived lifetimes without hearing her voice and she couldn’t let him touch her. She pulled away. 

“One thousand years and… and… you remember me?” her voice was small. 

“Oh, Rose,” he gave a hollow laugh. “A thousand years won’t make me forget you, and neither will a thousand more.” He paused, then, with a small smile, “Time isn’t the boss of me.”  
“Quite the opposite, I’d say,” Rose said with a laugh that worked its way out of her heavy chest. And then his hand was caressing her cheek and wiping away tears that wouldn’t stop spilling.   
“My Rose, my Rose,” he kept saying, now cradling her face with both hands.  
“You are my constant companion.” 

And it was too much. This Doctor, who was hers and wasn’t hers at all. This Doctor who had to spend an eternity without her, even though she had made him a promise. She couldn’t handle the sorrow that burst through her chest and left her empty.   
Rose put a hand on one of his frantically beating hearts and looked into his eyes.   
She raised the dimension hopper.   
“Goodbye, my Doctor.”  
Pressing the button was easy. What wasn’t easy was landing in the same spot, a thousand years in the past, and losing him all over again.


End file.
